100 Jumps
by VickyVicarious
Summary: A series of 100 linked 100-word drabbles, each prompted by one word. The progression of a relationship. Dennis/Tom slash.


Spoiler warning: contains mention to multiple episodes, up to season four. Also this is my first 21JS fic, so please go easy on me, and pardon the crappy title. Some of the characters may seem a bit OOC at times.

Betaed by Blut_kruez on LJ - thanks!

* * *

**BOX**

He didn't necessarily keep it because he _wanted_ to. It was more like he _had_ to. The one time he'd tried to get rid of it – to toss it out – he found he couldn't force himself to let go of it.

So Tom Hanson Junior kept it, the old shoebox of his dad's stuff, and on particularly bad days he took it down to look through. The badge, the will, a few other papers and things. Nothing incredibly personal or special.

They were _private_, though, and that was why he kicked Booker out when he caught his temporary partner snooping.

--

**SWEET**

It was odd, though, because Dennis Booker hadn't been his usual asshole self about it. He'd _let_ Tommy shove him through the door, glaring and shouting. And – except for the stammered excuses when Tom first found him – Dennis hadn't mentioned it again, either.

At the station the next day, Tom found a piece of candy lying on his desk – a lollipop, incredibly sweet. Tom picked it up and walked over to Dennis's desk.

"What's this, Book?"

The man shrugged, filling in his name on a form, not bothering to look up. "You needed an apology and I don't do words."

--

**GHOST**

It was amusing, if you looked at it the right way. But he'd never really gotten the chance before; he'd always been too _annoyed_.

But now… Standing in the doorway, watching Judy and Doug trying to summon up a spirit on an Ouija board, and Sal tacking up a horseshoe on the wall, Tom exchanged a look with Dennis. They both burst out laughing.

"Do they do this often?" Dennis choked, and Tommy nodded, leaning his weight on the other man's shoulder.

"Oh yeah, _all_ the time." And without Tom realizing it, he hated the guy a little bit less.

--

**SHORT**

It was through a course of short little moments like that, that it happened. For some reason, Fuller had kept the two of them partners. He told them that despite their constant squabbling, they made a good team.

Of course, he didn't tell Tom that Dennis had _asked_ him to keep them partnered – after all, he'd also asked that Fuller not tell Tom.

But over the course of several weeks, it got to the point that, though Tom still _said_ he hated Dennis Booker, they were… well… kinda friends.

Of course, he was still as annoying as all hell.

--

**GOOD**

Dennis thought it was probably a good thing that Tommy didn't know what most of the station thought about him and Doug. The poor guy would probably be very shocked and more than just a little bit horrified. After all, Tom and Doug pretended to be _brothers_ on half the cases they worked together, and Dennis could tell that Tom thought of Doug that way elsewhere, too.

But really, watching them play the McQuaids, it was so easy to misinterpret that comfortableness they had with each other, as something a little more amorous.

Dennis was a little envious of Penhall.

--

**AHEAD**

It was there, somewhere ahead of them, lurking in wait. Sometime in the (possibly near) future, Dennis was going to make a move on Tommy. His friends knew it, his captain knew it, Dennis knew it – the only person who had no idea at all was Tom himself.

It was a little surprising, but Tom always had been remarkably oblivious about that sort of thing. Somewhat shocking, really, considering how often the man got offers from various women – but that was just Tommy's nature. Just another one of those little quirks about him that you couldn't help but like.

--

**GENTLEMEN**

"No, no, Dennis," Tommy Benson smirked, putting a restraining hand on his partner's arm. "We are _gentlemen_. Ladies first."

Without warning, he grabbed the arm of the nerd they'd chosen to torment, and swung him up against a locker. He pinned him in place with an arm over the windpipe.

"Well, my lady?" he asked, "Wouldn't _you_ like to be my very first friend here at Kramer High?"

The kid whimpered; Dennis laughed. "_Please_, Tommy, the little asswipe could never keep up with us."

Tommy turned his head and winked at Dennis. "Yeah," he said slowly, and dropped the boy.

--

**WAITING**

The 'little asswipe' tattled to a teacher, and Tommy got detention. Dennis tried not to mind; after all, it was just what their covers needed.

But he'd planned on being in detention _with_ Tom. They suspected that was where things went down, and he didn't want his partner going in there alone.

So he mouthed off to a teacher until he got one too, settling down in his seat afterwards with a satisfied smirk. Tom poked him and whispered, "Why'd you do that?"

Dennis couldn't admit he was worried, so he just shrugged instead. "Didn't want to wait for ya."

--

**STAR**

Dennis liked to watch the stars. It was kind of a guilty secret of his. After all, it didn't really fit with his leather-wearing, motorcycle-driving, tough guy image. He didn't know any constellations, or anything geeky like that, and he didn't really want to. He just liked looking at them.

But when he somehow ended up sitting outside with Tom, leaning close to follow the line of his finger, and being taught the constellations and some of the stories behind them, well…

Maybe he _did _want to learn – or at least to stay there with Tommy as long as possible.

--

**FINE**

"I'm fine," Tom grunted, but his face was pained, and he clutched his side, and Dennis's eyes were drawn to the blood on his lip.

"I – I'm sorry man, I would have been here sooner, but – "

"Relax," Tommy shot him a quick grin. "I told you, I'm fine. Just – just help me up, okay?"

"Okay, here you go…" Dennis lifted Tom's arm around his shoulders, supporting him as they stood slowly. Tom swore under his breath, and Dennis bit his lip. "Come on, let's get you to the nurse's office, okay?"

"Stupid fucking teenagers…" Tom muttered.

--

**WORD**

Tom shut him out for it for almost a week, until finally Dennis found himself banging on the man's door early in the morning, a little bit drunk, shouting, "It's just a word, man! I wasn't even serious! Lemme in!"

Tom finally opened the door and Dennis shoved his way in, ignoring the "Shut up, my neighbors'll kill me!"

"Seriously!" Dennis exclaimed, "What's your deal with this? You _know_ I didn't mean it! I say worse stuff than that all the time, and you don't care!"

Tom swallowed, looking a little guilty. "Sorry," he muttered, looking down. "Bad memories."

"…Oh."

--

**MORE**

Dennis really _tried_ not to, but he couldn't help it. He found a lot about Tommy attractive – not just his looks, although those were _certainly_ a part of it. But it was also just the guy's personality – which was weird, because normally _personalities_ were a turn-off for Dennis, rather than the other way around.

But not with Tom.

It was pointless, he knew, and hopeless; after all, the guy wasn't even gay. And furthermore, he certainly wouldn't ever be gay for _Dennis Booker_, the guy he'd once thought was a rapist.

But he couldn't stop. He wanted more.

--

**YOUNG**

Sometimes, being so young was a good thing – after all, it got him into Jump Street, and that was definitely _good_. But that was really just the _looking_ young, not the actuality of _being_ young. Tom was only twenty-three, the youngest of even the Jump Street program, and he'd always felt it.

But now, it was easier, because he had Dennis. Who, yeah, was still a year older than him, and still the 'older brother' during covers, but who was also at least three years younger than anyone else.

It was kind of nice, having someone else young. A friend.

--

**START**

They were out, celebrating the successful end of a case, still dressed in their grungy clothes from their covers, and Tommy was drunk. He waved a hand around in the air as he said something or other unimportant, and he was hot as hell in his disguise, and Dennis was a little drunk too.

He reached out, put his hand around the back of Tommy's neck, and pulled him forward, into a kiss. It was the start of something new, he knew it and he had to make it work, he _had_ to.

But Dennis forgot when their lips met.

--

**HURRICANE**

He forgot _everything_, because, damn, Tommy could kiss, and besides, he'd wanted to do this for multiple months now, and he was drunk, and Tommy could _kiss!_

His hand on Tommy's neck slid up into his hair, and his tongue licked into Tommy's mouth. And Dennis leaned closer and closer, eyes closed, skin feeling sweaty and on fire.

They somehow stumbled outside, and he pressed Tommy up against the alley wall, panting, kissing his neck, and hands sliding everywhere they'd been longing to go.

"Tom," he groaned, holding Tommy's head and kissing him deeply once more, pressing in close. "_Tommy_…"

--

**COVER**

Dennis felt incredibly, horribly awkward the next morning, having no idea what to say. He swallowed, and licked his lips, still thinking he could taste Tommy on them, and just hoped that the man wouldn't hate him.

"Whoa," Tom groaned, holding his head and sitting up from Dennis's couch, where he'd passed out the night before. "What happened last night? I can't remember anything."

It only took Dennis a beat or two to recover, and he passed Tom some aspirin and a glass of water, licking his lips again.

"Oh, nothing much," he croaked, running a hand through his hair.

--

**NEVER**

It was so difficult. Trying to pretend that it had never happened, that he'd never kissed drunkenly kissed Tommy. Pretending that he'd never learned just what the guy could do with his tongue, or that he'd never slid a hand up his shirt and felt those tight abs. Pretending he didn't remember anything either.

Pretending, pretending.

It was killing Dennis, because that was _all_ that he could think about, especially when he saw the man, which was basically all day, every day. And they were _friends_, and it was just insanely difficult for him.

But he tried, for Tommy's sake.

--

**HARDEST**

Maybe the hardest part was the contact. They made contact pretty often, be it on a case or as their real selves, just being friendly, buddies, pals, partners. Tom was a pretty tactile guy once he got to know you, always greeting you with slaps on the back or bumping shoulders; and once, excited about something, actually _hugging_ Dennis briefly, before bouncing off, leaving Dennis frozen in place, trying to swallow through a suddenly dry throat and staring after him.

But Dennis was a pretty good actor, always had been, and Tom was oblivious anyway, so he got along okay.

--

**PROOF**

"I _know_ it's him, I _know_ it, I just need some proof!" Dennis paced and muttered and groaned and frowned and bit his lip, and finally Tom just stood up and moved in front of him, grabbing his shoulders.

Dennis instantly tensed, eyes going wide as he stared at Tom, who smiled gently. "Hey, relax, okay? You aren't gonna get that proof by giving yourself a heart attack."

Dennis was still staring at him, tense, and Tom laughed briefly.

"Tell anyone, and I'll kill you," he warned, before walking around the man and starting to give him a shoulder massage.

--

**WHO**

"Who…" Dennis groaned briefly, as Tom pushed down on something, and half his back melted. "Who taught you that?"

Tom shrugged, although Dennis couldn't see it, lying on the floor, eyes closed, head pillowed in his arms. "No one, really. I've always been good at it." He chuckled. "My mom used to tell me I had magic hands."

Dennis snickered briefly, but it took too much effort to keep up, and he soon relaxed even further into the massage, muttering sleepily, "Yeah, smart lady."

Tom laughed, removing his hands. "I better stop, or you'll fall asleep."

"No! C'mon, Tom… Tommy…"

--

**GIRL**

Once Dennis's back had turned back into skin and bones, no longer goo, he turned back to the case, frowning and considering his problem. "I just need a way in."

Tom, lounging next to him, paused with his beer halfway up to his mouth. "Why not the girl?"

Dennis raised an eyebrow, and he clarified. "The sister. She's involved too, you can charm her and get the proof you need that way. After all, we all know you're _quite _the ladies' man, right Booker?" He laughed and drank.

Dennis muttered, "Yeah," absently, distracted by the movement of Tom's Adam's apple.

--

**GONE**

They laughed together, an inside joke from a case prompting it; no one else had any idea what they were talking about, and for a minute or two, Dennis felt like he'd taken Doug Penhall's place, become included and Tom's best friend – closest to him in all the world, the one he went to, the one he cared about.

But then the real Doug Penhall waltzed in, cut right through the laughter and went over to Tommy's side, completely ignoring Dennis in favor of talking to Tom, and the moment was gone.

Dennis glared at Doug, and walked away.

--

**CHEAT**

"You are _such_ a cheater, Booker!" Tom cried, and others quickly chimed in, making agreeing noises. Dennis just smirked and gathered up the chips. It was his first night in on one of the basement poker games, and his so-called 'beginner's luck' was getting unbelievable.

Dennis said something witty, but he couldn't remember what it was – because on hearing it, Tom laughed, threw an arm around his shoulders, shook him, and pronounced, "You know, sometimes I love this man!"

Dennis went white, and even though he quickly recovered, saying, "Only _sometimes?_" – that was the end of his winning streak.

--

**WHOLE**

It was only one night, home alone, that Dennis realized how pathetic all of this was getting. His life seemed to revolve wholly around Tom Hanson now, to a ridiculous degree; and yet one word from Penhall and he was cast aside.

He couldn't even make himself be angry at Tom, because he knew it wasn't on purpose. Doug, on the other hand, was another matter – but what could Dennis do? Mess with Doug, and you were permanently on Tommy's shit list – and he was too close already, despite their current friendship.

No, he was stuck.

_Damn_ Penhall!

--

**TALK**

"Hey, Penhall, we need to talk."

Away from Tommy, Doug was barely civil to Dennis now, frowning and saying, "I don't think we have anything to talk about, Booker."

"Yeah, we do." Dennis's tone was sharp. "Hanson."

Doug glared. "What the hell do we need to talk about him for?"

"I know what you're doing, but I'm telling you, it's not going to work."

Doug affected innocence. "What you talking 'bout? I haven't _done_ anything."

"You have," Dennis glared, "and you _are_, and you know it, but let me tell you something Penhall, you _can't_ keep me away from Tommy."

--

**TREE**

"What's wrong with _you?_" He heard Tom asking, across the room.

"Tree," came the short answer, and Tom frowned.

"A… tree? Seriously, you aren't telling me you did that to yourself on a tree! What'd you do, fall from it?"

Penhall growled. "I told you Hanson, it was a tree, now could you leave me _alone?_"

"Whoa, fine. You might want to borrow some of Jude's PMS stuff, Penhall, you sound a bit moody." Smirking, Tommy walked away, ignoring the two matching shouts behind him.

He stopped and gaped. "You _too?_ What was it this time?"

Dennis smirked slowly. "Tree."

--

**MEANT**

He hadn't meant to admit it to anyone out loud, not even himself, but somehow he'd spilled it all to some _high school student_ when they were undercover, talking about Tom Fisher, his best friend, and how he wanted more.

She was sympathetic, especially to the 'being attracted to Tom' part. And understanding, in a way that made him think she had some personal experience. Also, when he let slip that they'd kissed once, but they'd been drunk and Tom forgot, she said, "Well, if he kissed back – even drunk – then obviously he's not _totally_ straight, is he?"

--

**VINDICATED**

Booker was vindicated, absolved long ago. So why did he keep having flashbacks now, to when he'd suspected him of being a rapist? Why on earth did this keep happening? They were _friends_ now. Good friends. Partners, in fact!

Kind of like him and Penhall, but Dennis was so different from Penhall, and not just in the obvious ways. There was also a… quality that Tom sometimes noticed, that he knew he ought to figure out, but just _couldn't_, something different.

Something about the way Dennis looked at him. It kept giving him flashbacks – because something had changed there.

--

**HAND**

"Hey, lemme see your hand," Tom announced, and Dennis raised an eyebrow at him. "Aw, come on, just do it!"

Taking the hand held out to him, he flipped it over and began to inspect it, fingers smoothing over Dennis's skin.

Then he nodded, set it down, and walked away.

Dennis stared after him.

Five minutes later, Tommy was back, this time with a small bottle. He snatched Dennis's hand again, this time without asking.

"What – "

Tom interrupted Dennis, rubbing lotion into his skin. "Shut up, Booker," he said, "your hands are dry and I'm really, really bored."

--

**KNOW**

"Oh, I know," Dennis grinned, "I know your dark secret, Tom."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Yeah, what's that, Book?"

Dennis paused dramatically… "You're gay for me."

Tom's eyebrows shot up his forehead. Dennis continued, "_Yeah_, you are. Every time you see me your heart starts racing; you can barely control yourself – admit it Hanson!"

Dry as a cracker, Tommy nodded. "Oh no. You've figured me out. Whatever will I do."

"Well, I guess you'll pine forever, because I'm having a highly satisfying affair with Ioki at the moment. I think it's true love."

"Hey, don't bring me into this!"

--

**SADDEST**

"Which do you think is sadder…" Tommy asked morosely, staring into his hands, "That her priest father beat her… or that her psychiatrist molested her?"

Dennis stared at him bleakly for a moment. He almost found himself wondering what Doug would do to cheer Tom up, but then he rallied his spirits. He could do damn fine on his own!

"What's _saddest_ is that we're sitting here in the middle of the night, talking about stuff like this. Come on, Tommy, this is a _high school!_ Can we at least go to a bar?"

Tom groaned, but still smiled faintly.

--

**TODAY**

Today was it; the day.

He could tell. It was in the air. It was Valentine's Day, the day of love, after all, and that girl had been right; if Tom _was_ straight, then he'd never have kissed back. Dennis hopped the steps two at a time as he walked into the chapel, whistling – and then he saw Tom.

The guy was walking, head down, hands in his pockets, looking tortured, and Dennis instantly changed his plans for the day.

Later he came by Tom's house, and found him looking through that shoebox he'd snooped in, of his dad's stuff.

--

**WE**

"Yeah, we'll help," Tommy smiled, and Dennis blinked. He didn't think his partner noticed, but it was the first time he'd ever spoken of the two of them as a team like that, naturally.

It wasn't anything official, and maybe not the best time to start, since Dennis didn't really _want_ to help Sal, but that wasn't important.

What mattered was that, however slowly, things were changing, and in his favor; he wasn't ignored for Penhall anymore, not nearly as much, and other things were changing too. He was climbing the ranks of Tom's affections.

He was finally making progress.

--

**FREE**

Dennis was surprisingly really good at playing the racist asshole over the radio, and he almost enjoyed it for a while until he realized just _what_ he was doing.

Then, he couldn't be gladder that the case was over and he was free. Free to do whatever he wanted, and not ruin anybody's life but his own. Free to ride his bike around all day, to piss people off as _himself_, to have a fling, to flee for the hills, to take control and make things happen how _he_ wanted – at least until his next assignment.

He visited Tommy.

--

**CITY**

He hated this assignment. He really, really, really did. Really. Because it was outside of the city, and his leather had gone from cool to weird, and Tommy was able to do that damn chameleon thing and slip right in with these hicks, and Dennis was the outsider yet again.

Plus it was too quiet at night, even if he could see more stars. It sucked. It did. Dennis hated the world, and couldn't wait to get back to civilization.

"Aw, come on Booker," Tom said, nudging his shoulder, "Ease up a little, will ya?"

Against his will, Dennis softened.

--

**WASTE**

"What a waste of a man I am!" Dennis groaned, glugging down a beer. "A hot thing like me, falling in love with some goody-goody asshole who has no idea!"

He then choked and ended up hands-and-knees on the floor, coughing hard. After he'd sufficiently recovered, he breathed slowly, his brain catching up with his mouth.

"Holy shit," he whispered, and then again, "Holy _shit_."

But he couldn't lie to himself. It was true. Probably had been for a while. He really _was_ in love with Tommy.

"Well, he kissed me back!" he defended himself to the air. "Blame him!"

--

**RACE**

It was a race against time – and Tommy lost. He swore as the rain clouds above opened up on him, and cut through the park, once again swearing that whoever had messed up his car was dead. _Dead_.

He knocked on the door, soaked through and shivering, and when Dennis opened the door Tom shouldered in, and began to strip off his multiple shirts right in front of him.

"Tom – I don't think you should – "

Dennis seemed to get distracted from whatever he'd been going to say, stopping mid-sentence, staring.

Tom pulled off his last shirt.

--

**COLD**

"Sorry man, I'm freezing," he said, "And I gotta get out of these clothes, they're fucking soaked."

Dennis nodded slowly, still staring at Tom. Tommy didn't notice though, sitting down on the ground and tugging at his sodden shoelaces, trying to pull off a boot.

"Sorry to barge in on you," he added, glancing up, "But some asshole mauled my car, and I got caught in the rain when I was walking home. I just need a warm shower; maybe I could crash on your couch if that's okay? I'd rather not call a cab so late."

Dennis nodded absently.

--

**COULD**

"Could I?" Tom glanced up again, finally getting his boots and socks off, and standing up again. "Seriously, that'd be great."

"I-it's fine," Dennis choked out, now staring fixedly at the wall.

"And, uh, d'you mind if we catch the game tonight? I've been meaning to see it, if that's alright with you."

"Oh – sure."

Tommy grinned, walking closer, and Dennis's eyes snapped to him. "Seriously, thanks Dennis. I owe you one. You want anything, you just let me know, 'kay?"

Dennis opened his mouth, choked, and coughed. Tom put a hand on his shoulder. "You all right, Dennis?"

--

**CONTROL**

And just like that, his control was gone. He'd been doing an amazing job with it so far, even if he'd had to avert his eyes, and he couldn't really pay attention to Tom's words. But when Tom had said 'want anything', images flashed in his mind, and he choked – and then _contact._

Tom's hand touched his shoulder and Dennis shuddered, his heart thumping. "No," he said, through a very dry mouth. "No, not really."

And then he'd reached out and grabbed Tommy's face, and _yanked_ him forward, and they were kissing. Sober, this time. Dennis was kissing Tom.

--

**WATER**

Tom tasted like water; absolutely essential to life, and Dennis was parched, dehydrated. He couldn't get enough. In mere seconds he had swung his partner round and slammed him into the wall, covering Tommy's body with his own, feeling wet, _bare_ skin pressing into his shirt. He had Tommy's head in his hands, cradled tight, and he couldn't help his fingers clenching, sliding into dark hair that he _loved_, tugging closer.

Dennis pulled back and snatched a breath of air before he slammed forward again, tongue in Tom's mouth, and knee between Tom's legs, and heart in Tom's goddamn hands.

--

**STUPID**

Tom felt incredibly stupid. _This_ was it, he knew now, _this _was what he'd been missing this whole time, _this_ explained everything.

_This_ was Dennis slamming him up against the wall and sucking his brain out through his mouth.

Tom couldn't help but kiss back, (even though he had no _idea_ what was going on, and even though he'd never even thought of this _once_) because there was something in the desperation of Dennis's kiss that tugged something deep inside him.

And then his hand hesitantly lifted up and he'd touched Dennis's hair.

A second later he was clutching it.

--

**FOOL**

Dennis was perfectly aware that he was a fool, a total fool, but he really, really didn't care, because Tom Hanson was currently threading fingers through his hair, and their lips were overlapping.

Dennis groaned deeply, unable to contain the noise, and his eyes, which had long since fluttered closed, flickered briefly. He surged up even more against Tommy's bare torso, flattening Tom to the wall, and lifting his head to move to kiss down Tom's face, then neck, and back up to his mouth again.

He was probably about to get shot, he thought, and kissed a little harder.

--

**SORRY**

Tom made a noise – what, he wasn't sure – and it seemed to jolt Dennis. He leapt back, panting hard.

"God, Tommy, I'm so – Tom, I'm sorry, I just – I didn't mean to – oh God…"

Tom's mouth was hanging open, and he was still pressed back up into the wall, panting slightly himself. He didn't say a word.

Dennis groaned, frustrated, and his hands went up to rake through his hair as he paced back and forth.

"Look, I'm sorry Tommy, it's just – you were – and then you said – and you – and I – agh!"

--

**THANK**

Tommy swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. His hands came together and he fiddled a little, looking down.

"Um… thanks for, uh, letting me come in… I think I oughta go…"

He was up and reaching for a dripping shirt, when Dennis stepped in front of him. Tom instantly flinched far back, stumbling a little.

"What are you, crazy? How can you just walk away like that, Tommy? It's still raining, anyway."

"Yeah, well, what do you expect me to do?" Tommy cried. "I mean – you _kissed_ me, Booker!"

"Yeah," Dennis snarled, "and you kissed back! Damn it, Tommy…"

--

**FEELINGS**

"I – I…"

"Yeah, you _did!_" Dennis growled. "And you know why? Because you're attracted to me! You _are_, Tommy!"

"No! I mean, I never thought about you – like that!" Tom's eyes were shocked and honest, and Dennis slammed a fist into the wall.

"Gee, thanks!"

"What did you expect, Book? You just – just kiss me, and then – "

"I didn't _just kiss you_, Tommy!" Dennis was shouting now, leaning in close.

Tommy froze. "What do you mean?"

Dennis laughed bitterly, shook his head. "Tommy – Tommy…" he whispered. "I'm fucking in love with you, all right?"

"_What?_"

--

**WELCOME**

Tom left not too long after. He left, having stared at Dennis for a few minutes, and then shaking his head and said, "No, no, no…" for a few more. He also wore Dennis's leather jacket, buttoned up, rather than his wet shirts. The rain had stopped, so it was okay for him to walk home.

Dennis sat down on his couch, but stood up immediately, and fiddled aimlessly for a few minutes longer.

Then he yelled and threw stuff across the room for a while, before he slumped down on the couch again, head in hands.

Some welcome response.

--

**HATE**

No. No. No.

It wasn't possible. It just – wasn't. For one thing, Booker didn't fall in love. He just didn't. Especially not with guys. And _especially_ not with Tom Hanson. Not his _partner_… who had apparently been oblivious the whole time, while Dennis was falling in love with him.

No.

And even if he _did_ fall in love, even _if_ it was with him, Dennis would never _say_ it. That just – wasn't _him_.

No.

Tom reached for the phone, was dialing Penhall's number when it occurred to him that it was a bad idea.

He hated this.

_No._

--

**HIDE**

Dennis was having a really, really bad day.

Especially since he'd just realized that he was hiding – and actually, Dennis didn't _do_ hiding. Calling in sick was definitely hiding.

What the hell had happened to him? Where had the old Booker gone? Where was his attitude, his hatred of the rules, his toughness, his invulnerability, his _leather?_

Well. Hanson was wearing the last one.

But Dennis was having an epiphany; he had to stop this, snap out of this weird sappy thing that he'd been going into lately. He needed to be bad again, and then maybe he'd stop caring.

--

**HOLE**

Tom felt like he was walking into a black hole. He was getting squished down into nothing, torn apart, and the worst thing was, unlike a real black hole, he was aware of it all.

"I thought you and Booker were friends now," Fuller frowned, and Tom glared, jaw set.

"I want back with Penhall, Coach."

Fuller's brows slowly drew together, then he looked Tom over again and nodded once.

"I'll have to talk to Booker when he shows up," he said, "But I'll see what I can do."

"He's not here?" The words escaped his mouth without permission.

"Sick."

--

**STUCK**

Dennis was stuck. He'd called in sick, so he couldn't very well just waltz in now. But he needed to get out of the house and _do_ something. He was in the mood where, right now, being an asshole high schooler really appealed to him.

He might be worried about seeing Hanson, but he'd already decided not to be, and Dennis didn't like changing his mind.

So, when Fuller called, he was right there.

Hanson wanted to stop being his partner.

Completely disregarding the fact that he'd pretended to be sick not to see him, Dennis called Tom a coward.

--

**SENSITIVE**

"Hey, where's Booker?"

Tom tensed up, his head lifting angrily. "_I_ don't know, okay? Would you leave me alone?"

Ioki blinked and backed slowly away. "All right, all right… Don't be so sensitive." He strolled off, muttering, and Tom groaned, pressing his fingers into the corners of his eyes until lights danced across his vision.

He was _not_ being sensitive. And anyway, he had good reason to be. If he was – which he wasn't.

It was just – he needed time to think, and to wonder why he'd reacted the way he had, and he needed to talk to somebody.

--

**ROCK**

"You're like – like a rock, man, all emotionless. What's up with you?"

Tom bit his lips, and swallowed a couple times. "I just – Doug, you won't tell this to anyone, will you?"

He knew that he probably shouldn't be doing this, but he just had to get it _out_, and Penhall was his best friend.

"'Course not. Now tell me," Doug grinned, and sat down next to him. "What's up, buddy?"

Tom nodded, and looked down at his hands. "Well, a couple days ago, Booker…"

"Wait, wait, wait. This is about _Booker?_" Doug's face was furious. "That asshole?"

"…Yeah."

--

**FEEL**

After a long ride on his motorcycle, Dennis felt a lot better.

Well, he still felt like a certain Tom Hanson had squished certain internal organs under certain boots, but even so. He felt more like himself. Like himself before Tommy had come along.

He coasted into a strip club, ordered a drink, and sat back to enjoy the show, with the intention of not leaving alone. He wasn't completely gay, after all, and girls were a lot easier to pick up.

He left with one, drove her home, and proceeded to have mad crazy sex.

Yeah, he felt better.

--

**PAULINA**

Dennis was surprised to find out that her name was Paulina, almost as much as he was by the fact that he'd let her stay the night.

"Oh, _shit_," he groaned, fumbling around his dresser until he finally found his badge. She spotted him stuffing it into his leather jacket and did a double take.

"You're a _cop?_"

Dennis smirked at Paulina, finishing buttoning up his jeans. "A brand new breed, sweetheart."

She seemed horrified, and Dennis shrugged, dropping his keys into his pocket.

"Would you mind getting out; don't want you knowing where I hide my gun." He winked.

--

**GUNNING**

The night with Paulina had been exactly what Dennis needed, and so when Penhall turned up at about one a.m., gunning for him, he didn't even feel surprised, let alone hurt.

"Yeah?" he opened the door, and was knocked back by a punch.

"You leave Hanson alone!" Penhall threatened, and Dennis laughed.

"Oh, please," he said, "As if I'd ever care what you want."

Penhall growled, but when he left, Dennis wasn't the only one with bruises.

He called up Fuller, asked to go in on a case as soon as possible.

"With Hanson."

--

**BAD**

Tommy Fletcher was bad, all right, and his big brother Dennis was even worse. The two seniors (Dennis had been held back) were bad enough on their own, but together they were even worse. They always had the other's back, and they were damn scary.

The whole school had heard horror stories from several people who'd recently transferred over from Jefferson High. But right now, the Fletcher brothers didn't seem so scary.

Of course, that was until they got into a fight and proceeded to beat the living hell out of each other in the middle of class.

For _fun!_

--

**ALCOHOL**

Tommy knocked on Dennis's door, and when the man answered, he launched himself forward into surprised arms.

"Hey, Book," he said with a lopsided grin.

Dennis blinked, looked down at Hanson in his arms. Swallowed nervously.

"Han- Tom, what are you doing here?" He slowly removed himself from the other man, and stepped back. Tom closed the door behind him, shrugging off Dennis's leather jacket.

"I'm drunk," he announced matter-of-factly, and moved forward again.

"Well, then, why – " Dennis paused, and swallowed again, licking his lips briefly, when Tom's – slightly open – mouth brushed his jawline.

"I'm drunk," Tom repeated.

--

**BABY**

"Mornin', babe." Dennis was smirking and crunching cereal, wearing a muscle shirt and studded bracelet.

Tom groaned, realizing that it was the second time he'd woken on the man's couch with a hangover. "What – why am I here?"

Dennis shrugged, lifting the spoon. He sat in the armchair across from Tommy, legs up on the coffee table, crossed at the heel, and it looked like he'd been watching Tom sleep.

"You came over last night. Drunk."

Tom flushed. "Did I – I didn't – you didn't…"

"Relax," Dennis drawled. "We watched Discovery Channel."

"Oh – look, I-I'm sorry."

"Forgiven."

--

**MOM**

"Hi mom." Dennis shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly. She looked surprised to see him, but pleased too, and invited him in right away.

He paced a little, before turning to her and announcing, "I'm in love with my partner and he thinks I'm insane. Maybe evil."

She gaped at him, shock and even pleasure coloring her face. "Well – I'm glad you're sharing this with me. Did you say 'he'?"

Dennis nodded, lighting a cigarette.

"Well… this is a fine mess, isn't it?"

Dennis chuckled, sucked a deep lungful of smoke. "Any advice?"

She thought. "…Nope."

"Gee, thanks!"

--

**EYES**

After the night that Tom had spent at Dennis's apartment, things went back to normal more. Tom and Dennis both acted like they just wanted to forget the whole admission and kiss, and eventually, things went pretty much back to normal. On the surface.

They spent virtually no time together outside of their cases, and though Tom never asked to switch partners again, it was clear that he'd prefer it.

And, of course, Tom never did seem to be able to meet Dennis's eyes.

But it was just a work-in-progress, Dennis consoled himself. Things _would_ go back to normal.

--

**LOVE**

"Put the gun down, or your friend here's brains are blown out of the back of his head!"

Dennis stared tensely at Tom, his face a blank mask, his gun pointed straight at the man holding Tom captive.

"You think I won't do it? He'll be dead before you hit me!"

Tom swallowed. Dennis repeated the action, glancing around quickly. They were alone, no backup on the way. If he dropped his gun, they were _both_ dead.

"Put it _down_, cop!"

Dennis took a deep breath, staring at Tom – and dropped his gun.

Tom's eyes met his; Dennis's breath caught.

--

**LIME**

Dennis couldn't believe that he was wearing a lime-green bowling shirt, but it was the only one they could find, and they were in a hurry to get out of there.

He caught Tom's hand when the injured man seemed to be lagging behind, and pulled him along. "Come on, come on, Tom!"

Tom's breath was panting harder and harder, and by the time they reached the other side of the hill, it was rattling disconcertingly. "I – can't – " he gasped, and Dennis looked around wildly before yanking him into a drainage tunnel that ran under the highway.

--

**TRAFFIC**

They could hear lots of cars whizzing by above them, and Dennis wished they could flag one down, but it was far too dangerous to venture out of hiding now. He'd pulled some brush across the entrance to the tunnel, and now they were kneeling in it, exactly under the middle of the road.

Dennis's lighter didn't bring too much light, but it was enough for him to see the purpling bruises emerging on Tom's skin. No one had used any weapons on him, but he'd been beaten severely before Dennis arrived, and it was obvious he was in pain.

--

**SEASONS**

Of course, _today_ had to be the day that it rained, and water, mud, and god knew what else filled half the tunnel, soaking Dennis and Tom up to their waists. Tom had fallen asleep on Dennis's shoulder, and he simply sat there in the darkness, listening to the rain pound above him.

Tom moaned quietly, and Dennis carefully wrapped an arm around him, the image of that gun to his head refusing to be banished.

He had no idea how they were going to get back to safety, but for now, he would have to just wait it out.

--

**HIGH SCHOOL**

It was rather ironic, that kids they'd bullied had found them; kids from the high school they'd been investigating. At first the pair of nerds had wanted to mock them; but then they got a look at Tom.

Dennis had flashed his badge and carefully supported Tom into the car, keeping his arm around the weary man's side. He stayed with him at the hospital, and when Fuller, Penhall, Hoffs and Ioki all arrived, he was asleep in the chair next to Tom's bed, dressed in borrowed scrubs, and hand still touching Tom's on the bedspread.

Just to make sure.

--

**SOMETHING**

Dennis woke up long after everyone had gone. He was completely alone with Tom, who was awake and staring down. Dennis followed his gaze and saw his own hand, resting on Tom's immobile one.

He instantly began to yank it away, but Tom's hand twisted and caught his wrist.

"No," Tom said, and then, "Thanks. Sorry."

They both knew what he was talking about, and Dennis just nodded. "That's okay."

"No," Tom said, suddenly leaning very close. "I mean it. I'm _sorry._"

At this, Dennis had to look away. "Yeah."

Tom nodded, and sat back, still holding onto Dennis's hand.

--

**DARE**

"Just – do it, damn it, Judy!"

Judy stared at him. "But _why_ on earth, Hanson?"

He glared at her, shook his head, and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "You know what, forget it. Never mind. Don't tell anyone, bye."

He started to walk out of the room, but she reached out and caught his sleeve. "Fine! Fine, I'll say it."

Tom let out his breath in a sigh. "Thanks. Thank you, Jude."

She cleared her throat, and read from the paper. "Tom, I dare you to kiss Dennis Booker, _sober_, before a month is up."

--

**AMERICANS**

They stood up for the Pledge of Allegiance, for once briefly slipping out of character to stand serious and tall, whispering quietly along.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag…"

Afterwards, all semblance of seriousness left them, and they flopped back in their seats; feet going up on the shoulders of the kid in front, arms stretching out to fill up too much space. Yawning and staring out the window, snapping gum.

For that single short moment, they become themselves: cops, who love their country – then they're back in character, Tommy Henderson and Dennis Shore, not nice guys by any means.

--

**PRINCE**

Dennis wouldn't stop playing Prince, and it was beginning to drive Tom crazy, but he kept silent, because his partner's hands were tense on the steering wheel, fingers tapping. And his jaw kept on clenching and unclenching, and Tom definitely owed him.

So when Dennis flipped the tape over for the third time, Tom simply took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore it, instead biting his lip and looking out the window.

Dennis glanced over, and took in Tom's profile. Then he glanced quickly back at the road, and turned up the volume again to fill the silence.

--

**SIGHT**

The end of the month was in sight, and Tom had yet to do anything regarding his dare. He knew he was stalling, but he couldn't help it; doubts plagued him, and having to shake his head every time he saw Judy didn't help. At least she was encouraging, once she learned the story.

Doug had been anything but, and when, the day after he'd told, both Doug and Dennis had come in with bruises (again, Tom realized) he decided not to tell again.

But that was why he'd chosen this way; because Tom never backed out of a bet.

--

**RESPECT**

"Come on, Tommy," Dennis said, rolling his eyes. "I'll still respect you in the morning."

Tom grumbled, but climbed into the bed anyway, annoyed that he _wasn't_ annoyed that Fuller had only gotten them one room.

They both wore boxers and t-shirts, and in a sort of unspoken agreement, slept as far apart as possible.

The next morning, Dennis lay awake for half an hour, Tom somehow having draped half over him in the night, head by his ear.

He could tell when Tom woke up, because his breath puffed faster into Dennis's neck.

"I still respect you, Dennis."

--

**INTERNET**

Neither of them knew anything about the internet, or computers at all for that matter, but they managed okay on the case anyway. Tom went in as the tutor, and Dennis as the guy who needed tutoring, and eventually they were forced to spend an evening _really_ studying together, so that Tom would be able to keep his cover.

Tom glanced at Dennis over the books and considered now, but the case depended on him knowing how to do this, so he didn't try.

Dennis noticed Tom staring at him, and closed his eyes for a long moment, breathing deep.

--

**ME**

Dennis was sleepy, and his brain was kind of fuzzy at the moment, but he was pretty sure that Tom had just come into his bedroom (how did he get in the _apartment?_) flicked on the light, and said, "You're in love with me."

He put his gun down facing the wall, and took several steps closer, blinking rapidly, making sure this was _Tom Hanson_.

It was.

"What are you doing…?" Dennis trailed off when Tom, with a quick glance to his alarm clock, green numbers glowing 11:58, stepped up to him, put a hand on his shoulder.

Kissed him.

--

**TIDE**

It was a steady tide of a kiss, starting out slow and sure, soft but confident, and then, as the room swiftly began to heat up, growing more and more rough, passionate and messy, wet and high, hands holding onto shoulders and backs and chins, lips and tongues faster and breath panting; Dennis disbelieving and clinging on and _not dreaming_, and Tom finally letting go, crashing together like waves on rocks.

Then it slowed, stopped, movements stilling and hands releasing, tide receding and quieting. Calm for the moment, but just waiting to be released again.

Their lips touching still. Ready.

--

**DEMO**

Dennis spoke first, forcing himself to break the dream. "Tom, what – that…"

He backed away, reached desperately for a pack of cigarettes; lit up and inhaled sanity.

Lost it again when Tom looked at him, heavy-lidded, and said lowly, "A demonstration."

The question hung in the air, blown out with Dennis's shaky exhalation, smoke leaving his mouth: _Of what?_

Tom didn't answer, just looked at the clock again.

12:03.

Dennis breathed deeply, before giving up and stubbing out the cigarette. "Okay. Tom – Okay."

Tom turned his head to look at him, and shook his head.

"No, it's not okay."

--

**DISARM**

"What do you mean?" Dennis asked, and Tom shrugged.

"You still think I hate you. And you're in love with me."

Dennis's finger itched for another cigarette, but Tom stepped forward and pulled the pack from his fumbling hands. "Would you stop _saying_ that?"

Tom shook his head, suddenly seeming to smile, with just half his mouth but all of his eyes, and Dennis felt like all of his weapons had been stripped away, leaving him bare.

Tom met his eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt, and let it fall to the ground.

"I don't hate you, Dennis," he said.

--

**MAP**

Tom had been going to leave after the kiss, and after he'd talked a little bit, but he couldn't; he just couldn't on having tasted Dennis, and in what seemed like no time at all, he was mapping out Dennis's body, being explored himself, gasping and heart drowning them both in liquid air, thumping an unsteady beat in time with Dennis's fingers.

Even just sinking down slowly into pillows after, the drumbeat lengthening, air syrupy and slow, and Dennis breathing shakily into his shoulder, body curved around his back. Fingers still stroking his hip, stomach; catching on his own fingers.

--

**EVERYONE**

Dennis was back in his element the next morning, even if he didn't move at all, just watching Tom on _his_ bed, _his_ arm around him, _here_. Once they both got up, he made breakfast and performed with the ease of someone who'd had plenty of mornings-after, probably more than they should.

He tossed Tom a turtleneck as they left, telling him he'd need it if he didn't want everyone to know, and Tom flushed slightly.

He couldn't resist pulling Tom around the corner before they climbed the steps into the chapel; kissing slowly, just savoring before work began.

--

**SLEEP**

Tom had no idea of what Dennis expected of him. They'd come to the station together, something that had happened multiple times and didn't arouse suspicion, but he'd need a ride home – unless Dennis thought he was going to spend the night again.

He didn't know if he hoped yes or no to that, and he spent so much time thinking about it that he was late to hand in a report. He blamed his slowness on lack of sleep, and Dennis, who'd been unnaturally cheery and productive all morning, snickered.

Judy looked at him questioningly, and Tom nodded.

--

**LOSER**

"You're not a loser," Dennis said, feeling oddly sympathetic – which was weird, because even back in high school his nickname had been 'Joe Cool' and he'd never had to deal with any of the sort of issues this geek had.

But then he thought of his difficulties this past year at Jump Street; with Tom, with Judy – who was nicer to him now, and who he was pretty sure knew everything – with Penhall, who was still obviously overprotecting Hanson, and even with himself.

"You're _not _a loser," Dennis repeated, and his voice held such conviction that the kid believed him.

--

**PUSH**

Dennis walked into the chapel to see Tom and Penhall having a McQuaid brothers shoving match, and his heart sank. He was assigned to a different case altogether, and when he saw Tom, it was Tommy McQuaid, who was still pretty awesome, but who came part and parcel with his brother Doug McQuaid.

And Doug was so damn protective as to make it barely even worth it. But of course, it was still _Tom_, and it _was_ worth it, even if he ended up eating lunch with Sal for the rest of the week.

He was actually an interesting guy.

--

**BUS**

Dennis hated riding the bus; although, riding it with Judy and Tom made it pretty interesting, since they were undercover as pranksters. They cracked an egg on the steps and the first kid to leave the bus slipped and was knocked out. They launched spitballs the entire ride, until the second-to-last row was easily identifiable, even in the crowds, by the little white balls in their hair. They soared airplanes and stole the intercom and glued the window open with an entire pack of gum.

It was even better, because Penhall was in the second-to-last row, playing an oblivious jock.

--

**GUITAR**

Tom played guitar; a fact that surprised Dennis somehow, until he learned that he also played the saxophone. He himself was in as some sort of weird performance artist; even he wasn't really sure what he was doing.

But he traced more haikus on Tom's skin to the tune of practiced chords, blending into moans and gasps and a full moon out the window.

He was pretty sure he was inspired, and was interested in figuring out how to put his thoughts and poems into words longer than gasps of breath.

Then he changed his mind; listened to Tom's guitar.

--

**FALLEN**

Doug had finally fallen down in the ranking, or Dennis was drawing even. Either way, it didn't matter, because now the two of them were scrambling for the top in every conversation, racking up invisible points and very visible annoyance.

Dennis and Doug had moved on from fists now; this was their only way to fight, and they were encouraged with every word Tom said to the other.

Judy and Harry, with the help of Sal and sometimes even Fuller, took bets on who would win each time, and somehow continued to remain amazed that Tom didn't realize a thing.

--

**LULLABY**

Most nights, Dennis got used to sleeping with his head on Tom's shoulder and arm wrapped around his midsection, Tommy's heartbeat thumping in his ear, breath the background.

He was also used to waking flat on his back with Tom draped over him in some manner, but he could do okay without _that_. It was that heartbeat in his ear, the warmth in his arms, that he missed when Tom was gone.

But it was happening less and less now, waking up without it, which was good, because Dennis was starting to grow dependent on it; needed it to sleep.

--

**SUITE**

It was rather amusing that now that they'd be _fine_ with one room, Fuller managed to procure a suite for them. But then again, they weren't alone this time; both Harry and Penhall were there too, and it would be a little too difficult for them to _all_ squeeze in together. And, of course, they were pretending to be rich kids on vacation, which meant they got to stay somewhere expensive.

But even so, Dennis found it kind of ironic, and although Tom didn't make a big deal about it, everyone knew that his own room was just gathering dust.

--

**MAN**

It was a little annoying at first that Dennis had to share this big sentimental moment with Penhall but at least it cleared things up between them a little bit. Somehow, the original tension – 'You're-going-to-hurt-Hanson-must-stop' on Doug's side, and 'You're-interfering-with-me-and-Hanson-must-stop' on Dennis's – ebbed away, and after working that case, they both realized it.

They still basically fought over him in every conversation, and on other things too; but now they could possibly be described as friends themselves.

It was pretty great for Dennis, because he had basically just beaten down the last wall of Jump Street. He was in.

--

**FEVER**

Tom had a fever; his eyes were glassy, and his face looked oddly pale but flushed, his cheeks holding two little spots of color. He wanted to keep working, despite Fuller and Judy and Harry and Sal and Doug and Dennis all telling him he _couldn't_ – and Doug and Dennis' eyes met behind Tom's back.

The next moment, they were striding outside, Dennis holding Tom's feet, and Doug holding his arms. They forcibly stuffed him in the back of his beloved old Mustang, ignoring his struggles and threats, and drove him home.

They both stayed to watch over him.

--

**BETTY**

"Aw, come on Betty, gimme a kiss."

Somehow, Tom didn't want to _know_, he had been elected to be the one in drag on the upcoming case. They had, of course, informed him of this only _now_, so that he had no time to protest, and so he'd been dressed up in a skirt and wig and makeup for the _second goddamn time!_

And Dennis (along with the rest of Jump Street) was loving it. Asshole.

Tom frowned as something occurred to him, and yelled suddenly to the whole chapel, "Anyone sends me flowers this time, they are getting _scalped!_"

--

**SONG**

Dennis scowled. "Hey, I like that song!"

Tom rolled his eyes, turned to look at him. "We just listened to it twelve times in a _row_," and Dennis started to get flashbacks.

"If you say 'I thought I knew you'," he warned Tom, "I am not responsible for my reaction."

Tom blinked at him and rolled his eyes. "I _do_ know you, though. You and your freaky obsessions with stuff you like. Seriously, you overdo it sometimes, Book. I don't even _like_ that song anymore. I'm just sick of it."

Dennis smirked, relieved. "How about _you?_ Am I… overdoing you?"

--

**WORLD**

"It's a wide, wide world out there, buddy… Couldn't we have picked a vacation spot a little farther from home?"

Tom shook his head. "Nope. Then Penhall wouldn't be able to get up here. He doesn't have as much time off as us, you know."

Dennis grumbled, sliding hands towards inappropriate places. "Why does he have to come, anyway?"

Tom nonchalantly slapped him away, handing him a bag. "Because I said so. Ioki's coming too. Pack."

"Why should I? I know you'll just end up doing it for me, making sure that I have the correct amount of underwear. Nerd."

--

**BELIEVER**

"I'm not normally a believer in these types of things, but… Every time you spend the night with me, I have a good next day. I think it's a charm."

Tom grinned. "Really."

Dennis nodded. "Oh yeah. Which is why I think you oughta just move in. Don't try telling me that it doesn't work both ways."

Tom laughed, "Yeah, sure, sounds like a plan."

They were both surprised, later that day, to find themselves making arrangements and arguing over who should move into whose apartment. They hadn't known that they were being serious until they started packing up boxes.

--

**DISASTER**

The first week of cohabitation was a disaster. Dennis had ended up moving into Tom's apartment 'because he'd had it longer', and for a while, they had issues fitting his belongings in. Then they had issues with the placement of certain belongings.

Then odd things that had never really been an issue before started to bother them. Dennis smoking inside; Tom's need to buy only healthy, low-priced food; Dennis's habit of playing both the TV and loud music on headsets; Tom's weird little bowling shrine that Dennis wasn't allowed to use as a handy resting place for his keys.

--

**MY**

Every now and then, Dennis took a moment just to pause and savor how much things had changed; to be a sappy idiot and relish the fact that he _had_ Tom now. That they were _living together_. That he truly was one of the Jump Street gang, as indicated by Ioki getting very protective on a recent case.

It was all _his_ now: the guy, the job, the place on earth – hell, he was even cutting back on the cigarettes, which he'd been trying to do for a while.

It was all his, and _damn_, knowing that felt good.

--

**CARING**

"Hey, Dennis, you have to know that I'm doing this because I _care_."

"Doing what?" Dennis asked warily.

Tom smiled. "I tossed out all your cigarettes."

Dennis's eyes grew very wide. "_What?_ _All_ of them?"

Tom grinned, smacking gum. "Ya-huh."

"You little shit, Tommy – "

"How about this," Tom was eager to cut a bargain. "Every time you feel the need for a fix, I give you permission to randomly shove me against a wall and kiss me until it goes away. As long as we aren't on a case."

Dennis, mouth open to retort, paused thoughtfully, considering this.

--

**WALL**

Tom was chatting casually with Judy and Sal, when Dennis suddenly appeared out of nowhere, not saying a word of greeting.

Instead, he swiftly backed Tom against the nearest wall, flattened himself against him, and kissed him passionately for nearly two minutes. He pulled away, panting, and said, "Thanks, Tommy," before patting him on the shoulder and walking off.

Tom swallowed, and cleared his throat, very aware that the entire station was staring at him, all motion briefly paused, and countless eyebrows raised – among them, Doug and Harry's, across the room.

"I'm, uh, helping him quit smoking?" he offered weakly.

--

**SPIRALING**

The world slowly slid sideways, everything spiraling out of control. Clothes slid away with each turn, and flesh moved on flesh, everything spinning and spiraling and dizzying, but incredibly ecstatic.

"Say it again," Dennis panted, staring intently at Tom, who grinned.

"I'm in love with you."

As he heard the words again, Dennis growled; then they were out of the eye of the storm, caught up in the tumult of emotions and limbs and kisses that never seemed to end.

There was another brief flash of awareness as Dennis said, "About time," – then it was just emotions, coiling upwards.

--

**VIRGINIA**

Tom really wasn't willing to go to the ends of the earth for anyone – but it was getting close. He couldn't believe that Booker wanted him to drive all the way down to Virginia to visit some random old family member.

Seriously, it said something about the guy's neediness, him forcing Tom to join him. Then again, one could always wonder why Tom had agreed so quickly…

That in mind, he didn't mock Dennis once, although he certainly encouraged his friends to pick up the slack.

Well, all but Judy. She, oddly enough, was _nice_ to people.

Sometimes, anyway.

--

**CRASH**

It's like a car crash every time they kiss; something out of control and dangerous about it, although it can be soft as a spider's whisper at times. Tom and Dennis don't mind; they live with danger every single day, and it's almost relieving that it follows through to their personal life anyway.

Dennis still gets his jollies out of pushing Tommy's buttons, and Tom is still just as easy to make angry, but things are different now.

And hey, even _Fuller_ approves. If you needed endorsement… that was it.

So they manage to keep hanging on to each other.


End file.
